


Chiaroscuro

by Quixestic



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Angels, Demons, Implied Death, Implied Torture, M/M, Violence, celestial!au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-16
Updated: 2014-04-16
Packaged: 2018-01-19 15:50:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1475416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quixestic/pseuds/Quixestic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Light cannot exist without darkness, just as darkness cannot exist without light.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chiaroscuro

**Author's Note:**

> Always being a fan of fantastical concepts with the inclusion of angel/demons, it is no surprise that a fic I write would contain otherworldly ideas. So this fic does explore the idea of demons and angels, though doing so in a not so-religious focused ideal.
> 
> Plus, I always toyed with the concept of an angel!Michael since most if not all fics seem to make him more along the lines of a (fallen) angel and-or demon in his own right.
> 
> Anyways, first written piece in a while.. first piece written at all for AH… while trying to retain main characterisations (or as well as I can with how things will turn out later on), there might be some OOCness,

_Raucous laughter, as harsh and unforgiving as the cold metal that bit into this skin._

_The shackles bound him to the floor by wrists and ankles, forcing him to his knees;_ ‘Your kind thinks yourselves so high and mighty - a little subjugation never hurt anyone.’ __

_His head hurt, the low throb of discomfort transforming to an incessant pounding not long after his capture. How long had it been? He couldn’t remember. His mind was hazy, memories blurring images and words into incomprehensible fragments of thought._

Everything hurt. __

 _Bruises discoloured, cuts and gashes split apart the pale skin that had been unblemished -_ flawless _\- once before. If only he could_ remember _‘before’._

_Some bones were broken; he could tell with every slight shift he managed, each deep breath he struggled to take without effort._

_A part of him was sure, so sure, that under normal circumstances every pain and ache would be fine. That, before, everything would of easily taken care of itself and -_

_There it was again: before._

_Before, before,_ before _._

_Before what, aside from the obvious predicament he was now in?_

_Why -_

_"Well, well, looks like our little_ guest _has finally settled down.”_

_He opened his eyes at the voice, watching with a half-lidded gaze as the very shadows of the room moved, tendrils of darkness shifting and coalescing into human-esque beings of an inhuman origin._

_The very sight of them brought forth a new emotion:_

__Fear _._

_Eyes glowed crimson, fangs and sharp teeth gleaming as the group of newcomers drew near. Each step closer caused his heart to beat faster, until he was almost certain that the very sound of its racing would forever be imprinted in his mind, as well as those of the others._

_"Mm," The largest of the group - and the one with the longest pair of horns - chuckled, eyes darkening to a shade of near-black, "The fun we had with ya before was nothing compared to the fun we’re gonna have with ya_ now _.” He fell to one knee before their captive, a hand reaching out and fingernails that were more akin to claws gripping a quivering chin, “Gotta love those binds, ya? If it wasn’t for them, this would’ve been a lot tougher… hell, we might not’ve been able to get’cha in the first place!”_

 _The horned one leaned over, noxious breath likened to the scent of rotting flesh exhaled and causing the other to flinch. “Yet we got lucky, finding something like that that’d bind ya, and still…still you remain ripe for the pickin’. But don’cha worry, we’re gonna have a lot of_ fun _with ya before we kill ya.”_

_The demon - for that is what he and his companions were - tightened his fingers a little, tips of his claws digging into delicate flesh and causing beads of blood to form from the punctures before letting go and reaching over and -_

_Eyes widened, the brown hues flashing gold for the briefest of moments before shutting as their owner was made all too aware once more of the feathered appendages hanging limply on either side of his naked frame. How could he not, as one was_ torn from his back _, sending a new wave of pain and agony lancing along his spine, leaving behind a bloodied remnant of bone._

_He wanted to scream, and as the action was repeated with each of his remaining wings, he did - and the demons just laughed as raucously as before, taking great enjoyment in the angel’s suffering and uncaring of the blood that poured from the newly obtained wounds, nor of the fact that he had fallen unconscious once more._

_Why should they, when they had a feast that other demons would be envious of?_

_The wings of a seraphim were a real treat indeed, after all, not to mention the_ power _contained within them…_

_A single feather drifted to the ground, its silver and gold edge tainted as it fell into the ever-growing puddle of bright blood._

\---

Michael woke up screaming, limbs that had been useless within the dream - no, _nightmare_ \- he had flailing about, as if making up for their lack of capable movement therein. He was deaf to the startled cries that sounded about him as the men who shared his bed were jabbed or thwacked into consciousness, drowning in the screams that echoed within the recesses of his mind.

It was less than five minutes later that he finally fell fully limp, limbs feeling like lead as he blinked teary eyes upwards, temporarily blackened vision slowly shifting back into colours that made up recognisable surroundings and worried faces. The screaming - both outward and inward - stopped, allowing him to hear the concerned voices that had never stopped speaking.

It took another minute or so until he was finally able to even out his breathing - though his heart still felt as though it was racing - and another after that to finally answer his lovers in a voice that, despite all attempts, shook. 

His attempts at reassurances sounded a bit forced to even him, his barked laughter at claims that, _damn_ , he shouldn’t of eaten what he had that night, too sharp to his ears.

It seemed like forever until finally they all managed to settle back down for the night, the other five managing to ease back into sleep.

He, on the other hand, couldn’t

His dream - _nightmare_ \- unsettled him far too much, the matter not helped by the fact that he could remember all of it. The feel of metal, the smell of that one creature’s breath and the prick of his claws… everything lingered outside Morpheus’ realm, haunting him in the waking world.

It was almost as though it wasn’t so much a nightmare as it was a memory of a time long, long ago… but it couldn’t be, could it? After all, there was no way that _demons_ and _angels_ could actually exist, right? And he, definitely, could _not_ of been one, and -

His entire back ached, spasms of a phantom pain focused in the areas where the wings had been torn from the other Michael.

 _It was just a nightmare_.

Why, then, did he have a feeling that it was the start of something so much more?

**Author's Note:**

> Next part will be out ASAP - I tend to write sporadically, at best. 
> 
> Also, always willing to try out prompts so feel free to shoot me one over on Tumblr (see profile) if interested! :)


End file.
